The Man Without a Country
by Music Lover Always
Summary: It was early January in 1942 when my family received news that the Peruvian government was handing us over to the US. My name is Sasuke Uchiha and I am a Japanese-Peruvian who has been extradited to Manzanar for the crime of conspiring against the US. This is my story – the untold story of a Japanese Latin-American interned during WWII. A historical fic about Sasuke's identity.


Summary: It was early January in 1942 when my family received news that the Peruvian government was handing us over the US. My name is Sasuke Uchiha and I am a Japanese-Peruvian who has been extradited to Manzanar for the crime of conspiring against the US. This is my story – the untold story of a Japanese Latin-American interned during WWII.

So I am trying to be historically accurate as possible. The relationship between Peru and Japan was very rocky and turbulent during the 19th century and post WWII. I felt inspired to upload the prologue since the US president elect has planned to issue a Muslim registry and trump surrogate, Carl Higbie stated that it is precedent for it and how it was done to the Japanese during WWII. I am appalled and disgusted.

I am of Peruvian descent and I have family who are Japanese-Peruvian. My grandmother hid her Japanese neighbors when Peruvian officials started to raid homes in search of Japanese-Peruvians and I think that was an act of humanity and kindness; my grandmother is a kind person without prejudice and saw the injustice of the situation. I hope to convey accurate feelings among those interned unfairly from Latin-American countries in this story.

I think this will be my most challenging story yet and one I hope people will read it since the internment of Japanese-Peruvians is not well known.

WARNING: I speak Spanish but I am horrible at spelling and honestly, I don't really know how to use Mexican-American slang. I grew up with Peruvian and Bolivian slang and words soooo yeah.

WARNING 2: This deals with racism, MAJOR identity issues, politics, brutality, unfairness, etc. Pairings are up for debate until I near the end of the story. The most important part of this story is Sasuke's identity issues and struggle from two very different worlds. He is neither Japanese nor Latino. He falls in between these two cultures; that is the main focus. Sasuke's POV will only be during this chapter.

WARNING 3: This will be the only chapter with Spanish paragraphs THAT ARE INTRODUCED IN ENGLISH FIRST before going into Spanish. Spanish will be in italics as well as their English translations in conversation. Don't worry! It won't be complicated.

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 **Prologue in English and Spanish** : (If you want to get a feel for the fic in all its glory, go on **Youtube** and search **Gustavo Santoalalla – Coyita** ). The music is gorgeous and it will make reading this all the more better.

 _ **1970**_

It was January 3rd.

Sasuke stood outside his home, south of downtown Los Angeles, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He hugged his heavy denim jacket closer to his body and plucked the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it onto the pavement of the sidewalk, crushing the bud with his boot. He let out a lengthy breath as the winter air stung his nose and cheeks, tinging them pink. He watched as a group of Mexican men casually walked in front of him towards their destination to a hardware store, in search of labor work. Sasuke heard them muttering under their breath, commenting on the "chinito" staring at them as if they were criminals.

" _Oye, el chinito nos está mirando." Hey, the chinaman is watching us._

" _Olvídalo cabron, vamanos." Forget about it dude. Let's go._

" _Orale." Yeah._

They walked off with wary looks on their faces until it relaxed as Sasuke turned his attention elsewhere.

 _Si supieran…If they knew…che pelotudos. Dumbasses._ Sasuke grunted as he stalked off towards his dilapidated 1960 Chevrolet truck. As he was driving to work, his mind wandered off towards the early parts of his young adulthood. He began to pay attention more to the road when a car cut him off. He grumbled to himself and continued to drive on. As he drove, he stopped at a red light and turned his head to stare at the old buildings. He saw a brown-skinned woman come out of the building with a tray of empanadas and loaded them into a man's car.

 _Empanadas._

He remembered his mother's gentle smile as she took out semi-burnt empanadas from the oven.

 _Mikoto wiped her hands on her apron and placed them at her hips. "Ay, que mala onda, ne Sasuke? Pues ni modo. Shikata ga nai." Ah, what bad luck right Sasuke? Well, never mind. It can't be helped. She laughed as she saw her two sons take a bite and grimace at the burned tasted of the empanada._

It truly left him jarred when reminded of the subtleties of his birth country.

The place of the Nisei* in Peruvian society is more complex and paradoxical than one might know.

Sasuke understood this very well. Too well.

A honk snapped him out of his reverie. He shifted his car into "2" and began to drive towards his destination. Albeit knowing he will arrive early, he wanted to think in peace and silence. Today was a wonton day for him as it brought back horrific memories of 1942.

As he walked towards his workplace, a briefcase in his left and a journal in his right, he began to think of what he has written for his child; well, more like a budding adolescent. Although writing his story into a journal, he was unsure if he would ever let his child read it. He wouldn't know until it would be his time to depart from this world.

He sat down at a nearby table outside and opened it to the first page.

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It was early January in 1942 when my family received news that the Peruvian government was handing us over the US. My name is …* and I am a Japanese-Peruvian who has been extradited to Manzanar for the crime of conspiring against the US. This is my story – the untold story of a Japanese Latin-American interned during WWII.

 _Fue en el principio de enero de 1942 cuando mi familia recibió noticias de que el gobierno peruano nos estaba entregando a los Estados Unidos. Mi nombre es ... * y soy un japonés-peruano que ha sido extraditado a Manzanar por el delito de conspirar contra los Estados Unidos. Esta es mi historia - la historia no contada de un japonés latinoamericano internado durante la Segunda Guerra Mundial._

I was born as Santiago Uyartu Uchiha Sasuke in Lima, Peru on July 23th, 1923. My family came to Peru in 1914 from Fukuoka, Japan and resided in Lima in the district of Breña. We were one of the few Japanese living in Peru at the time and my father opened a mining business in the capital and in the department of Ica and Ayacucho. We were wealthy and the Uchiha name began to be recognized in Peru and word spread to our family back in Japan.

 _Nací como Santiago Uyartu Uchiha Sasuke en Lima, Peru el año 1923 el 23 de Julio. Mi familia llegó a Perú en 1914 de Fukuoka, Japón y quedaron en el distrito de Breña. Fuimos los pocos japoneses que vivían en Perú en esa epoca. Mi padre abrió una empresa minera en la capital y en el departamento de Ica y Ayacucho. Eramos ricos y el nombre Uchiha comenzó a ser reconocido en Peru y se corrió la voz de nuestra familia en Japón._

My father, Fugaku was a strict man and expected my older brother Itachi to take over the mining business. He, too, also expected me to become something great.

 _Mi padre, Fugaku era un hombre estricto y deseaba que mi hermano mayor Itachi se encargaba del negocio del la minería._ _Él también esperaba que me conviertiera en algo grande._

Our lives were simple and we lived in a large house with quite a bit of land. It was the huge reason why my family came to Peru in the first place. My brother attended La Universidad Nacional Mayor de San Marcos (National University of San Marcos) and graduated as a mining engineer.

Growing up with Itachi was interesting to say the least. I felt neutral about my birth country. I did enjoy its cuisine and natural settings but with regards to the culture, I was always hesitant to participate. Itachi, although of Japanese descent, truly loved Peru and immersed himself in everything the country had to offer. Some of his friends and our neighbors would jokingly refer to him as being more Peruvian than they were.

The university would hold events and he would take me to them and I would be forced to participate in dancing with his colleagues. I hated being forced to learn the traditional dances of Peru in primary school and being dragged into it by girls. Of course, Itachi willingly participated in it. His girlfriend at the time, Izumi, would always hook her arm in his and take them towards where the people were dancing the marinera.*

I always crinkled my nose as I watched them.

I never understood his patriotism and love for Peru. Anti-Asian sentiments had begun to rise since the Chinese immigration and although we really didn't experience the brunt of this harsh sentiment until later, it was well-known among the capital. Native Peruvians saw us as a threat because small Japanese businesses were becoming successful. Such was the case of the mining company my father owned. My mother tried integrating us into Peruvian society more but my father took us to Japanese language schools so we could learn his mother tongue. Although Itachi and I learned Japanese at home and school, father never really understood, how Itachi's patriotism came to be, especially since he made us integrate in developing Japanese communities near our district.

Even I was wondering how Itachi's unwavering patriotism still stood out. In 1937, our birth registrations were annulled and we could not claim jus soli nationality. A year before I started university, my citizenship was stripped because my parents were born in Japan, a jus sanguinis nation. My father was outraged and Itachi held a neutral disposition but I could see in his eyes, the deep betrayal etched.

Besides Itachi's patriotism, I wanted to follow in his footsteps as well and I gained entry into the same prestigious university. I was 18 when I enrolled. Needing to take a foreign language, Itachi suggested I learn English like he did.

It was there that I was introduced to Itachi's English professor, Dr. Hatake Kakashi. He had come from Japan in 1935 miraculously. The immigration laws enacted in the 1930s were very strict and had a quota on how many could come from Japan and China. I suppose in thinking about it, Kakashi had desirable skills that could benefit the university and the country.

Little did I know that English would be a coveted skill I would desperately need in 1942.

Our lives changed forever on December 7, 1941.

The Peruvian government would forsake us and hurl my family into a foreign country.

In Peru, I was Santiago. At home, I was Sasuke.

In America, I was Sasuke. To myself, I was Santiago. But the Americans laughed as I stated my birth name.

Thinking back, I would too.

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Hope you enjoyed! I wrote this quickly but I wanted to get this out because my frustration was building up. Please review!

*Nisei - second generation Japanese descent

* Marinera - a coastal dance of Peru


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